Let me tell you a story.
Several years ago, there was a young girl who was struggling both with depression and self-harm. One night, after finding out that a letter she had written to a friend had been read by both her mother and father, she freaked out. At the time, she was home alone with her dad. When she heard the news, she was determined to walk out that front door, and never return. But before she could open it very far, her father placed his hand on the door and shut it. This caused her to begin screaming and crying, running around the house trying to get out every possible way she could, over and over again. At each exit, her father was there to block her. Then, at one point between the door to the garage and the front door, she was standing still, screaming, drowning out the words her father was trying to say to her. Then before she knew what was happening, she felt the palm of her hand harshly strike his left cheek. There was a long moment of silence. And then he spoke. “Go ahead. Hit the other one.”
My father is an amazing man. Highly intelligent, full of wisdom and knowledge, logical, hard-working, caring, speculative, extremely humourous, a leader, humble, always ready to give advice, a man of God…and so much more. He is that man in the story written about. I am the girl. And I will never, as long as I live, forget that moment when my father lived out a Biblical principal right before my eyes. (“…But whoever slaps you on your right cheek, turn the other to him also.” Matthew 5.39)
My dad is my hero. And he and I are a lot alike. We think the same way, approach many things in life in a like manner, enjoy the same foods and activities, have the same sense of humour…you can tell we’re related. ;)
Growing up, there were things I did that put my parents through hell. And yet they still manage to love me and be there for me no matter what. And they still are. I love how I can approach my dad any time, about any topic. I can go to him as he’s about to drift off into sleep and ask him to pray for friends of mine that he hasn’t ever met, and he’ll do it. I love how when I call him and I’m away from home, our “short” phone calls are at least a half an hour long. I love it how in any conversation we have, he always brings the topic around to Christ, and how we should incorporate things into our daily lives. When he speaks, people listen, because they respect him and his opinion; he doesn’t use his words in a frugal manner. His words show where his heart is – centred on Christ and living his life for Him. In general, he inspires me.
So here’s to you, dad. For working as often and as hard as you need to so that you can support us and give us a life without needs. For loving me despite my faults, my immaturity, and my mistakes. For showing your love for me when you discipline me, because you care about me too much to leave me the way I am – and how in your discipline, you are an example of how God is a Father to us all. (“My son, do not despise the chastening of the Lord, nor detest His correction; for whom the Lord loves He corrects, just as a father the son in whom he delights.” Proverbs 3.11,12)
Thank you for all that you’ve done, all that you are doing, and all that you will do. Thank you for being an upright, Godly man who is full of integrity. Thank you for being an example and inspiration to me. Basically…thank you for being you.
